


Whore's Son

by fireffly



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mindfuck, Minor Character Death, References to Abuse, Underage Jensen, asshole Jared, reference to non con, reference to prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireffly/pseuds/fireffly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared’s sister was a whore.  Not meant figuratively, she really was.  Maybe she didn't stand on street corners but she was no different than any who did.  Now she was dead, leaving behind a 16 year old son and if his only living relative, Uncle Jared, doesn't take him, then the kid'll get thrown into the system.  It's not really like Jared cared. </p><p>Jensen has always thought life hurt, sometimes so unbearably he couldn't breathe, but losing Mom hurt in ways he wasn't sure he could endure. And now he was all alone. Unless Uncle Jared wanted him.  Always intense, Uncle Jared, who had deserted them years ago when Jensen needed him so badly. </p><p>What will it take to make the man want him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whore's Son

Jared’s sister was a whore. Not meant figuratively, she really was. Maybe she didn't stand on street corners but she was no different than any who did. She had what she called "gentlemen callers", men who left cash on the night table; what everyone else called customers. It bothered their father, and he might have done something about it, but died before he could. Or maybe would. Their father, a self-centered abusive drunk, had written her off a long time ago when she screwed up her life by opening her legs at sixteen and getting knocked up. Their mother had died when they were quite young so it really was only Wendy and Jared. Except for her kid. There was a time Jared had felt sorry for the boy, when the boy was little. He couldn't imagine what it was like for a little kid to be shunted off to his bedroom whenever mom came home with a strange guy and know what was happening. And the kid must have known. Their house wasn't that big. She probably should have been able to afford something better, something bigger, she had enough 'gentleman callers', but she never did move. Maybe she was playing poverty to get extra out of the guys. Who knew? Jared sure hadn't. Nor had he cared. He had more important things to worry about than his little whore sister and her snot nose kid. He had a business to build, his own gutter to crawl out of. 

So, it didn't come as a total shock when he got the call saying she was dead; she'd lived a disposable life after all. The shock came when he found out that her kid was all alone and if Jared didn't take him he'd end up in the system. Or worse. He had to think, it had been years since he'd thought of either of them and even longer since he'd seen them. In fact, the last time he saw them Jensen was, maybe, nine or ten. And now, according the lawyers, he was sixteen. Jared almost laughed at the irony that the kid was on his own at the same age his mother had conceived him and been kicked out of her own house. The world was a funny place.

Now he had to decide whether or not to take the kid. Truthfully, he didn't want him. He had no use for some teenager in his life. In the last decade he had worked his ass off, got out from under the cloud of poverty he'd grown up in, built his reputation with the people who mattered and now owned his own bar. He had a few side businesses as well, but the bar was his life. And because of that he lived a great life; money to burn, fucked who he wanted, and answered to no one. Good looks and a good business made a man appealing. He had a reputation. He had needs. And having his sister's kid around would change things, curtail his freedom to do what he wanted, to whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Jensen had grown up watching his mother turning tricks so he doubted the boy would freak knowing his uncle worked a string of hookers out of his bar. If the boy was like his mother he'd be a little slut and out finding his own fun in no time, and if he was like his uncle, well, then he would be something else. It all remained to be seen. He'd get a better understanding of what he would be in for at the funeral.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The funeral was a quiet affair. Seemed many in town didn't mind fucking her but they had no desire to show their respects at her graveside. Not really a surprise there. There were a few of Wendy's female friends, a couple of neighbours and several teenagers. Jared had arrived as the ceremony was beginning, timed it that way so he had some time to check out my nephew. Jensen was young. Okay, obviously older than the last time Jared saw him but he looked so incredible young. A few inches less than six feet, slim, with light brown hair that was neither long nor short, something that was obviously not given a lot of thought other than brushing and washing. His clothes were cheap, goodwill kind of things, a dark suit that neither fit well nor appeared in any shape to be acceptable for the circumstances, which was unexpected. Wendy had always been a clothes hound, always done up to the nines and drooling over designer labels. Seemed that either wasn't a hand-me-down trait or she just didn't bother when it came to her son. There was a girl beside Jensen, pretty, tiny thing with long dark hair, holding his hand, another on the other side with brownish hair falling to curls around her shoulders, rubbing his back and whispering softly to him. Two other teenagers, both boys, hovered nearby, offering support. It was interesting to watch, the way he hung onto the girls but it was one of the guys who he turned to, clung to, and cried on when the service ended, the other three wrapping around them both. Jared didn't move from his spot, just watched the little circle. When they broke apart the friends kept close as the others around, the adults, formed a loose line and slowly, one by one, stepped up to him to give final condolences. It wasn't until the last man, an older man in a dark expensive suit, spoke to Jensen that Jensen looked up. His eyes flickered around a bit, jumping from one straggler to another until he saw Jared. He froze. And so did Jared. 

Jared knew the boy had green eyes, just like his mother, but he was not prepared for what found him. They were wide, shining in tears that soaked and clumped long dark eyelashes, lashes any woman would sell her left tit for. The depth of the emerald green drew him in and held him locked, stronger than any chains could, tears glistening down sharp cheekbones and lightly freckled cheeks, and lips, pink and plush, bitten raw and full, shaped in the most delightful cupid's bow. There was something incredibly feminine about those features and had it not been for the strong jaw and forehead balancing him out Jared would think too feminine. But all in all, he was incredibly beautiful, gorgeous. Jared could see immediately why both girls and boys flocked around him. 

And he knew what Jensen was seeing. A tall figure, six foot four with chestnut hair, salon cut a little longer than most business men would wear. Dressed in an expensive charcoal grey suit cut to fit, displaying wide powerful shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist over very long muscular legs. Hazel eyes locked with green and Jared twitched a little smile for his nephew, letting dimples appear. Knowing exactly what message that sent, what image he wanted displayed; tall, strong, handsome and kind-looking, and despite his age of thirty-one, young. A look Jared had perfected many years ago that got him into more pants, out of more trouble, and betrayed every ounce of darkness coiling and twisting inside him. Jensen's head dipped suddenly and Jared almost missed the slight blush pink tear stained cheeks. Jensen peered up again, shyly, through his lashes. Jared gave it a moment, just drinking in the sight before him and taking the time to get under control enough to school the expression, then nodded once. This was a dance he and Jensen were starting, whether Jensen knew it or not, and Jared wanted to know how well the boy would do.

One of the teenage boys beside him whispered to Jensen and though Jared couldn't hear anything he saw his nephew's lips move in answer. “My uncle.” he had said and suddenly all five were looking at Jared. Jared's attention never wavered, his gaze never left the green eyed boy, nor did Jensen's leave his uncle. Jared nodded again, head jerking slightly to the side, curious to see if the boy would understand a silent command. He obviously did and with a few spoken words to his friends he stepped around the grave and came over to Jared. His hands fiddled at his belly as he stepped in front of the taller man, head bowed down shyly. Finally, he tilted his head back to look up.

“Hi.” he said quietly. He had a beautiful voice, soft yet masculine. Jared graced him with another smile, easy and warm. “Hey, Jensen.”

Jensen’s courage was growing and he returned a slight smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“Least I could do.”

The boy's head bowed down again, stealing those eyes away from Jared and stared at his fidgeting fingers. “I didn't know if you would come.” he finally said quietly.

Cupping the boy's chin and lifted his face, Jared said, “Look at me when I'm speaking to you.”

Jensen's throat rippled as he swallowed, eyes widening just a fraction more and nodded slightly. Jared couldn't help but notice how he didn't pull away from the touch. 

“Do you remember me?” Jared asked.

Jensen nodded softly, his skin shifting in the long fingers. Jared caressed his thumb along the smooth jaw a moment then took his hand away. “What do you remember?”

“Last time I saw you it was on my ninth birthday and you gave me a chess set. Told me to always think ahead.”

Jared couldn't help but laugh. “You remember that?”

He shrugged, his face lighting up in a returned smile. “Still have the chess set.”

Jared licked the pleasure off his lips, but knew he couldn't hide it from my eyes. “Good boy.”

Heat darkened a blush into Jensen's cheeks and he dipped his head again. What a delicious little morsel this boy was and for the life of Jared he couldn't understand how he could still be so innocent considering who his mother was and the life he must have lived. He remained quiet, wanting to see what the boy would do. He didn't have to wait very long. He watched as Jensen seemed to gather himself, shaking his hands out and dropping them to his sides, squaring his shoulders and finally looking back up. “So...”

“So?” Jared asked casually.

“Am I going to...?” He paused, licked his lips and stole a glance back at his friends who were watching everything. When he turned back around he was staring at Jared's chest again. “The lawyer wasn't sure...” Another pause. Jared left him dangling. He could have made it easier for the boy, but in truth he didn't want to. He wanted Jensen to ask, wanted him vulnerable and insecure. 

“Did I not tell you to look at me when I'm speaking with you?”

Jensen's eyes jumped up and Jared saw in them the vulnerability he sought as well as embarrassment at having to be reminded. “Sorry.” Jensen mumbled.

Jared nodded.

“I just...” Jensen began again, and then paused yet again. Jared just couldn't help enjoying Jensen's rudderless insecurity. So he again remained silent. “I... I don't know what happens now. I mean, the lawyer said that because you are my only living relative that if you don't take me then I'll be put into foster care.”

Jared nodded slowly. He knew that already and could only image the fear his nephew had. Fears that he would play on. Keeping his voice even he said, “We have much to talk about. I have a full life and a business to run.”

Jensen nodded, crestfallen, sadness burning through his face, tears welling in his eyes just before his head dipped down. “Right.” he said softly, as if it was what he expected.

Jared wrapped his large hand around the back of the boy's neck and curled his thumb under the chin, lifting Jensen's eyes back. “Hey. I didn't say no. I said we have much to talk about.”

Defeat that had just been overwhelming vanished in a blink and he flashed the quickest smile, his face, so open and exposed. There was relief and eagerness, hope filling his eyes and he curled into the palm at his cheek. Tears leaked out as he blinked and his breath hitched. He was so desperate for the smallest crumbs of kindness. Knowing his self-centered sister Jared could only image how much the boy lacked at home growing up. Jared's thumb brushed away stray tears. 

“I'll come over to your house and we'll talk tonight.” Jared promised quietly.

“Oh.” Jensen chewed his bottom lip. “Um, can we do it tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“Well, my friends and I are having a sort of wake at Lisa's house. That's my girlfriend.” he added almost shyly. “They wanted to, you know, be there for me.”

Glancing over the little gaggle of teenagers Jared asked. “Which one's Lisa?”

“The one in the white shirt.”

He let his eyes scan over the long dark haired girl he'd noticed earlier. Pretty, very pretty, slim waist, decent size breasts, pixie face filled with concern and gentle brown eyes. He could be nice, give them the last night, and maybe let Jensen get some comfort sex out of it. She looked like a girl who would give out comfort sex.

Turning his attention back to his nephew, he let the hardness enter my tone. “We'll talk tonight. I have some business to attend to and should be at your place in an hour or two. I expect you to be there waiting for me and I expect you to be alone. Is that understood?”

Whatever confidence Jensen had amassed fled and he nodded. “Okay.”

Jared arched a brow, staring hard into those beautiful green eyes. 

“Yeah.” Jensen nodded again, quicker. “Yes, sir. I'll be there.”

Jared gave him a warm pleased smile, a last supportive squeeze around the neck and turned away. The boy might be worth taking in after all.

~~~~~~~~~ 

Jensen has always thought life hurt, sometimes so unbearably he couldn't breathe, but losing Mom hurt in ways he wasn't sure he could endure. It had always been just her and him. Guys came and went, and if he wanted to be honest, a lot of guys, but they always went. They couldn't handle her. They didn't know how to deal with her moods and her temper or their own jealousy, or they took those things she said to heart instead of realizing she was just venting her frustration, and in no time they would be bugging out so fast leaving it to just her and him again. No one could take care of her like Jensen could. It was always him who picked her drunk ass up off the floor and cleaned up her puke after she'd partied too much and it was always him who chased off those guys who got too aggressive or violent when she brought them home. It was him who made sure she ate and got enough sleep. It was him who made sure she paid the bills on time. And it was him, and only him, who defended her. It didn't matter that sometimes she didn't notice or that she sometimes got mad and said really mean things. He understood. She'd had a hard life and no one had ever been there for her. So he tried to be. He'd always thought that if he could show her, could find a way to prove to her how much he loved her then maybe she would stop needing so many different men. Maybe if he could prove to her that she was worth loving she would see it too, and eventually find just one man to love. And if that could have happened then maybe he could have had a father and then maybe everything wouldn't have been up to him all the time. And maybe he wouldn't have been so scared all the time, and maybe someone, somewhere would have given a shit about him.

None of that mattered now. None of it because she was dead, he hadn't protected her well enough. He wasn't good enough. It was all too late.

Now everything was so fucked. She was gone and he was alone. There was no one in town who would take him. He wasn't naive or stupid enough to think that. Just because they were nice when coming over to see his mother or pick her up didn't mean they really liked him. Hell, he knew that better than anyone. They wouldn't even acknowledge him if they met walking down a street. He'd been slapped enough times when he was little and made the mistake of trying to say hi when he saw them in Walmart or bumped into them at the corner store. And if they wouldn't talk to him then they sure as hell wouldn't take him in. None of Mom's clients would dare, and those who weren't clients would be opening themselves up to speculation and ridicule. He'd lived his whole life with the entire town knowing what his mom did, so he knew what they thought of not only her but him as well. Best thing would be to get out of town. But there was only one way that would happen. 

Uncle Jared.

Jensen had known his uncle was coming to the funeral, or well, hoped. The lawyer had said he would. But a part of Jensen was still surprised. Last time they'd seen each other was seven years ago on Jensen's birthday and the fight Uncle Jared and Mom had gotten into had been epic. Jensen had been so scared he'd hidden in the closet but even from there he could hear everything. The accusations, cruel words and nasty names. Something about a grandfather Jensen had never met dying of shame over his only daughter's chosen profession. Jensen had never realized that her family knew how she made her money until that very moment. And part of him had hoped Uncle Jared was there to make it stop, to make her stop or at the very least take him away. He remembered Uncle Jared's eyes going so dark and angry when he'd seen the bruises on Jensen's face, a gift one of Mom's regulars had left a few days before. But instead of saving his nephew Jared had just stormed out leaving Jensen cowering in the closet with his small arms wrapped around the chess set he'd just been given.

And now Uncle Jared was back. Still so tall, still so intense. Jensen thought that would have changed since he wasn't that little kid anymore looking up the grown man but when Jared had looked at Jensen and told him to be waiting for him there was no way Jensen could have told him no. The same as when Jared had put his hand on the back of Jensen's neck and touched the side of his face, Jensen couldn't have told him no then either. Those hands were so big and warm, strong like the rest of him. They felt safe and protective, how he'd always thought a father's hands would have felt. And Jensen knew that if Uncle Jared had been around all those years life would have been so very different for both him and Mom.

Jensen glanced at his watched again, sighed, and moved from the chair over to the couch to peer out the window. The street was dark; a few cars parked further down but no activity. The driveway was empty. Mom's car wasn't there but unlike so many other nights it wasn't her he was waiting for. Uncle Jared had said he'd be an hour or two, it was getting closer to four and Jensen couldn't shake the anxiety choking him. What if Uncle Jared had already made up his mind that he didn't want some kid in his life and left? He could do that. He might have. It's not like Jensen meant anything to him. Since that last fight he'd never even called. Hell, even before that last fight his visits were sporadic at best. And to be honest with himself, which is something Jensen was very good at not being, it wasn't like he had anything to offer the man. He knew Uncle Jared was a bachelor, had his own business, self-made man and all that. Having Jensen around would be a reminder of his sister and what kind of person she was. But he didn't seem like the type of man who would sneak off without saying anything. He seemed like the type who dealt with things head on. From the look of him, Uncle Jared seemed like the type of man who wasn't afraid of anything. So he wouldn't have any problem coming to tell Jensen he had no interest in taking in a pathetic orphan boy, maybe slip a couple of bucks into his hand and wish him good luck. God. That would be horrible. If Jared didn't take him Jensen didn't know what he'd do. He couldn't stay in town. And he had nowhere else to go. He'd do anything to get out. If only he could tell Jared that, if only he could explain. But if Uncle Jared didn't come back then Jensen wouldn't ever get a chance to explain.

The sharp rap at the door had Jensen shooting out of his chair and diving through the room. With one look at Jared he was almost crying in relief that he hadn't just gone, hadn't deserted him, too, and left him all alone. 

“Hi.” he said eagerly, opening the door wide and stepping aside to let his uncle walked in. As soon as Jared's back was to him he rubbed a hand over his face in hopes of wiping away all those fears he'd just had. Part of him wanted to mention the time, point out that four hours wasn't anywhere near two but he instantly knew it would be the wrong thing. It would make him seem exacting instead of grateful. “Good to see you.”

Jared tossed a smirk back over his shoulder but said nothing as he walked deeper into the house. He acted like no guest they'd had before, didn't move into the living room or kitchen to take a seat, instead he strolled around. Exploring. Touching. Seeing. It sent a nervous tingle through Jensen, though he didn't know why. It wasn't like the place was messy; in fact it was quite neat and tidy. The furniture, though not new was stylish and matching with pictures on the wall were of him and Mom throughout the years, a few paintings of nature, a few trinkets and knickknacks that accumulate over the years. Jensen followed along behind, chewing on his bottom lip as Jared started moving towards the hallway to the bedrooms. 

“Um...would you like something to drink? Or something to eat? I could, um...” He glanced back towards the kitchen trying to visualize what they had in the fridge and cupboards. “I could make you something to eat if you're hungry.”

Jared stopped and turned around, taking the two steps back to Jensen and stood over him, hovering, hazel eyes locked and searching Jensen's. “This is my house now. If I decide to take you then this house and everything in it belongs to me. Do you understand that?”

Jensen couldn't help it and cowered into the wall at his back. He would have moved further if the wall hadn't been there. His throat rippled, swallowing hard and nodded quickly.

Strong warm fingers caught Jensen's chin and stilled it, locking it in place. “When I speak to you, you will look me in the eyes and answer with words. Is that understood?”

Jensen had to swallow over the lump in his throat and his words burst out barely above a whisper. “Yes, sir.”

Hazel eyes didn't relent for a moment, and Jensen had no idea what his uncle was searching for but then finally, finally, his touch softened and he dragged his thumb gently up the curve of Jensen's jaw. “Well, at least she taught you respect.”

Jensen's eyes dipped away a moment, not wanting to disagree but also not wanting to explain that it was more Mom's callers who expected that than Mom herself. 

“Beer.”

Attention snapping back to Jared. Jensen blinked. “Pardon?”

Jared smirked. “You have beer in the house?”

“Uh.” Jensen had to think a moment. “Uh yes.”

“Then I'll have a beer.”

He waited a moment for Jared to step back and give him room but when he didn't move Jensen slid down the wall until he was free and all but bolted to the kitchen. It was only once the kitchen door swung closed behind him that he breathed again. The man was still so fucking intense. He tried to wrap his mind around Jared's words that everything in the house belonged to him. Surely, that didn't mean Jensen's things as well. Did it? It wasn't that he had much to call his own, but what he had was important to him. His keepsakes were part of his memories, his trophies and awards reminders of his accomplishments, and even a few mementos to help remember better days with Mom. He grabbed a bottle and was popping it opening, about to head back out but then thought better of it. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured it carefully. As he left the kitchen and saw the hallway was empty his first thought was that Uncle Jared had continued on. That thought sent a darker shudder through him, a fear of discovery even though he had no idea what he was afraid Uncle Jared would discover. He knew all about his sister and Jensen didn't have anything really worth hiding. But still. No one had ever been in his room except Mom and that was usually only when she wanted something, to remind him to do something or when she was mad and needed to vent a bit. Not even Lisa or Chris or any of his other friends had ever been in there. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention back into the living room and he found Jared standing in front of the couch and staring out into the darkness of the night. Jensen moved over, stopping beside him, his own gaze catching Uncle Jared's reflection in the large plate glass window. He held out the glass.

Jared looked over, seeing the glass and wrapped his hand around it, fingers brushing up against Jensen's and smiled. “Good boy.”

A whirlwind of anxiety swept out of Jensen as the smile beamed down on him, and he felt the heat crawling up his chest into his face. He wanted to hold onto the words, wrap them tight into something soft and silky, and hide them away somewhere so he could pull them out whenever he needed them. So many times in his life he would have given anything to hear something like that from Mom. He turned back to the window, trying not to beam too much and pretending not to be watching Uncle Jared's reflection as he drank down some beer.

“Couldn't have been an easy life for you being a whore's son in a small town like this.”

Jensen's smile vanished and that old familiar ache clutched at his chest. “Please don't call her that.”

Jared turned and looked at him, arching a brow.

Jensen didn't want to argue any more than he wanted to defend Mom so instead he just shrugged, trying to shrug off the hurt that came with the words. “It's just...well...she's dead. Y'know. Respect for the dead and all.”

“And you feel that since she's dead she deserves respect she didn't deserve when she was alive?”

“No. But, well, she was other things as well. I mean she made some mistakes, but she was also my mother and your sister and...”

“And a whore.”

An argument he was not going to win so Jensen turned away from the window and sat down on the chair beside his now warm coke. “I did love her, y'know.”

“I'm sure you did.”

Cocking his head he studied his uncle's back for a moment. “Didn't you?”

Jared turned away from whatever had been drawing his attention out the window to look down at him. “Want the truth?”

Jensen didn't, that answer alone already told him so, but part of him needed to hear it. Maybe part of him, a very tiny part he refused to look at wanted to know if it was okay not to love one's family. He nodded.

Jared's eyes narrowed.

“Yes.” he said quietly, remembering the rules.

“No. Not for a very long time.”

Jensen exhaled loudly. Maybe he hadn't been ready for the honesty in the answer. He remained quiet, digesting the admission as Jared settled onto the couch, stretching his long legs out and throwing an arm over the back, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he owned the place. Which, Jensen reminded himself, he as good as did.

“Not because she was a whore, Jensen. It's important you understand that. I don't care who she spread her legs for, but because she was weak and stupid. I can stomach neither.”

Jensen's head snapped up. “She wasn't weak and stupid.”

“Are you arguing with me?”

There was a definite change in Jared's tone, darker, colder, a warning if Jensen had ever heard one and he dropped his eyes, staring at the coffee table between them. He'd defended his mother his whole life, he'd had to. No one else ever did. It was as instinctual as breathing. In fact, if he didn't, he always felt he was betraying her somehow. But to do so with Uncle Jared endangered his chances of getting out of town. If Uncle Jared thought he was argumentative he wouldn't want him, wouldn't take him. He shook his head, fighting back the sting of tears. “No, sir.”

“Come sit on the couch.” 

Jensen glanced up. Jared's tone hadn't changed again and that sounded more like an order than an invitation. He pushed off the chair and moved around to sit at the other end of the couch. But before he could settle in Jared's arm snapped up and strong fingers grabbed his chin, jerking Jensen closer, forcing his eyes up. 

“I have told you twice to look at me when I am speaking with you. Tell me why I would want someone around who cannot follow simple instructions.”

Shivers of panic drove down his spine and Jensen fought not to pull away. “I'm sorry. I'm not used to looking people in the eye.”

Those hazel eyes locked, searched, wouldn't release him anymore than the fingers would and Jensen couldn't breathe. He was about to lose everything, any chance he might have because he couldn't break a damn habit beaten into him. But then the fingers released him and Jared settled back, body relaxed again as if nothing had happened, as if Jensen's world wasn't an inch away from crumbling down. “Why not?”

Afraid to move, afraid to shift, afraid even to blink and break eye contact, Jensen ignored the urge to rub at his chin where blood was squirming back into place. He licked his lips, choosing his words. 

“Here, in the house, was no big deal, but on the street or in stores or restaurants, or whatever, they didn't like it. Didn't want to be outed.”

“They?”

Jensen shrugged, feeling the heat of shame fighting its way up and trampled it down, a familiar battle. The battle to keep his eyes up was not so familiar. “M… Mom's callers.”

“Callers? You mean her customers. Tricks.”

Unable to stop himself Jensen glanced away long enough to stamp down the familiar urge to bark out a retort. Something he'd not felt in a long time, since one too many beatings at school taught him it was better to ignore crass comments. Somehow though, he knew ignoring Uncle Jared was not acceptable. He forced himself to look back. “Yeah.”

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it, Jensen. Tell me what they were to her. Tell me what she was without all the euphemisms and evasion.”

Shock locked Jensen into place and he couldn't have turned away if he wanted to. Jared wanted him to say it, knowing how much it would hurt yet he still wanted him to do it. And if he didn't do it, if he refused then Uncle Jared would probably just get up and leave. Jensen gasped out a breath he'd been holding. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The cold eyes narrowed. “Say it.”

Jensen's bottom lip quivered slightly as he opened his mouth and spoke, his words so quiet they would not have been heard in anything other than the silence of the room. “Tricks. Tricks for my whore mother.”

The words forced stinging tears to his eyes. He couldn't move, nothing but soft desperate panting of emotional pain that near enveloped him as he sat, staring at his uncle, waiting for his world to crash around him from the confession he'd never even allowed himself to think before. 

“You're very loyal to her.” Was what he finally got.

“She was my mother.”

“What did she do to earn that loyalty?”

“She was my mother.” he said with more inflection, as if that explained everything.

Jared shook his head slowly, clearly not accepting that explanation. “Last time I was here you had bruises all over your face and shoulder. One of her tricks, if I remember correctly. Can I assume that wasn't the last time one hit you?”

Jensen shrugged, sinking into yet another conversation he really didn't want to have. “Happened sometimes.”

“What did she do to protect you?”

Jensen swallowed hard. “Told them to stop.”

“Did they?”

“Sometimes.”

“And sometimes they didn't. And she probably didn't do a damn thing to make them stop.” Before Jensen could object Jared continued. “Why did they hit you?”

Jensen head dipped down, eyes closing momentarily. “I don't know. In the way, I guess. I was supposed to stay in my room.” He remembered the rules and forced his gaze back up. “I knew better.”

“So then it was partly your fault.”

Jensen just nodded.

“Words, Jensen.”

The well inside him broke and he couldn't hold back. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Yes. Yes it was my fault. I knew the rules. Get them a drink if they had to wait for her to get ready and leave immediately after. Be polite, answer any questions if they asked and remember to say thank you. But I didn't want to say thank you, I didn't want to have polite conversations while they waited to fuck my mother so she could pay the bills. I wanted them to go away and leave us alone.”

“But she kept inviting them back. And she made you open the door for them.”

He squeezed his eyes tight. “Please stop this.”

“She ever whore you out, Jensen?”

Jensen’s head snapped up. “No! Never!”

“Never? Guys would pay a lot of money for a young virgin boy, especially prepubescent.”

Jensen shook his head hard. “She would never have done that.”

Jared laughed. “Oh yes she would have. Don't ever think she wouldn't. That cunt would have held you down herself if she thought she could have gotten away with it.”

“You don't know her! You weren't here!”

“I can guarantee she tried. Tell me something, boy. How many times did one of her customers come on to you? How many times did someone lay hands on you, sneak a little grope here and there?”

Jensen pushed back hard against the arm of the couch, shaking his head. “That wasn't her fault. That was them.”

“You ever tell her about them?”

Jensen opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out. He had. Several had tried, many actually after he hit puberty, but two had done a little more than try. They had pushed. One cornered him in the kitchen, hands groping, trying to get down Jensen’s pants, offered money, a lot of money and even promised not to tell his mother so he could keep it all for himself. Another, one of his teachers had promised better grades, promised to be gentle and to teach him how to do it right. And he'd told Mom. Told her both times. She'd just told him they were joking, to just ignore it but she never stopped them from coming over. He’d told her about other times. It was when she whistled at the amount he was offered and told him how much it would help them out that he stopped bothering. Eventually just learned to push away the groping hands and which guys to make a point of never being alone with. 

Jared's lips curled into a dark grin. “Guess I knew her pretty well, huh kid.”

Jensen just shook his head, not in denial but in refusal. He couldn't see that, wouldn't see that. He refused to deal with what Jared was saying, even if deep down he knew it to be true.

Jared drained the last of the beer from the glass and held it up. “Get me another one.”

“Yes, sir.” Conditioning more than obedience dictated Jensen actions as he did as he was told, mind locked on images of his mother renting him out. Jared was leaning back all relaxed and comfortable when the boy returned. It took everything inside of Jensen to keep his eyes up, fighting every urge to run and hide away because he knew that whatever Jared was doing, for whatever reason he was inflicting this interrogation, it was far from over. And if Jensen ran it would be over and he would be alone. So instead of running into his room, locking the door and hiding in the closet as he had done seven years earlier he placed the full glass on the table before Jared and took his seat again on the couch.

Jared took a long drink of the cold liquid before starting again. “So your girlfriend...”

Jensen could have cried in relief. One of the few conversations he loved having. He could talk about Lisa all day. And night, and any other time. He smiled. “Lisa.”

“Right. Lisa. You hitting that?”

“Hitting?” His brows crunched upon his forehead then he got it. “Oh, sex. No. We're not... Not yet?”

“No? Why not?”

“We were going to on my birthday last month but she changed her mind and wanted to wait for her birthday. Which is next month. And I don't mind. I mean, it's only two months and she's more than worth waiting for.”

“So it's just that guy till she puts out?”

“What guy?”

“The one at the funeral. The one you got all hands on and snuggly with.”

“Chris?” Jensen didn't know if he was more shocked or amused, he settled on amused. Chris would totally lose it if someone thought that about them. He laughed. “No, no, nothing like that. Chris has been my best friend, sometimes my only friend, since grade two.”

Jared's grin might have been disarming had Jensen not already endured a round of questions. “Oh come on, you two were a little up close and personal for straight guys. And even if you haven't thought about it I can assure you he has.”

“Seriously. It's not like that. Chris is my friend. Just friends. He's like a brother to me. He doesn't judge me or anything like most of the people in this town. He's the only person I ever...” he paused, about to say Chris was the only person he ever talked to but that would be a lie. There were some things he could never do with anyone, talking about Mom being the main one. And if he were to stop and think about it Jensen would realize he'd talked more about his mother with Uncle Jared than he ever had with anyone else. Glancing back up he realized Jared was waiting for him to finish. “He's the only person I trust. Besides, I'm not gay.”

“You got something against it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Because I never think of guys like that. I like girls. Especially Lisa. But it's always been girls.”

Jared nodded slightly and for some reason Jensen felt like he'd just passed some kind of test. And he didn't know if he was relieved for passing said test or nervous that he couldn't figure out what it was. He licked his lips nervously. “Are… are you gay?”

Jared's smile grew slowly, spreading out across his cheeks until his dimples burst forth, like a man getting a joke no one else understood. “No.”

Jensen nodded, nibbling at his bottom lip, unsure what to say. He wanted to ask Jared again if he'd made a decision, wanted to know his fate but he was afraid of the answer.

“You drink, Jensen?”

“No, sir.”

“Do drugs?”

Jensen shook his head. “No, sir.”

“How are you in school?”

“Not bad. Was on the A-B honour roll twice last year and just missed it by a smidgen first semester this year. I study hard, try to stay out of trouble as much as I can. Mom gets really mad if she gets a call from the school.”

“What's she gotten calls for?”

“I've been in a couple of fights. Never been anything more than that. And I was just defending myself. I don't start them or anything.”

“Defending her, you mean?”

Jensen blinked. He didn't know what to say and couldn't figure out how Jared knew that. He wanted to shrug it off but the look in his uncle's eyes told him it was not a rhetorical question. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly then nodded, knowing better than to lie. “Yes, sir.”

“Happen a lot?”

He shrugged. “Comes and goes. Sometimes a month'll go by with nothing then I'm getting jumped once or twice a week. I'm easy pickings.”

Jared smirked. “I bet you are.”

“It's not like I go looking for it. I try ignoring it, most of the time I just walk away. But sometimes I get cornered.”

“And they would want for free what she sold.”

Jensen swallowed the hurt the cruel words inflicted. “Something like that.”

Jared sipped at his beer, staring at Jensen. No one had ever looked so intently at Jensen and it made him squirm in his seat, eyes instinctively dropping and he had to remind himself to look at Jared. Not an easy task under such scrutiny. Jared put the glass back onto the table and settled back.

“They tell you what happens to you if I don't take you?”

There was a threat in the words Jensen heard loud and clear. He couldn't ignore the fear that this was Jared's way of starting to explain why he wasn't going to take him. “Foster care.”

Jared arched a brow. “Think anyone in this town would foster a whore's son?”

Jensen's throat clenched so tight he couldn't speak even if he had an answer. All he could do was shake his head, feeling the tears threatening again.

“So tell me, Jensen. What will happen to you if I don't take you?”

Jensen opened his mouth to answer, feeling the quiver of his chin. He could feel it, could feel Uncle Jared preparing him for the rejection. He forced the words out. “I...I don't know.”

“Yes you do. I'm sure your mother told you what happened to her after she got kicked out.” The longer it took Jensen to respond the darker those hazel eyes became. When Jared spoke again his voice was as cold as the lump clenching in Jensen's chest. “Tell me what will happen to you?”

Jensen's breath was quicker, his heart pounding in his chest. His words rushed out hushed and trembling. “No one will want me.”

“That's right. Another reject kid that's not worth the time it takes to cash a welfare check. They'll dump you in some hole, probably some orphanage or reform school with the other rejects that no decent home would take and then they would forget about you until your eighteenth birthday. You'll be on your own where its survival of the fittest.”

Blinking hard, trying to blink away the tears and fear, trying to swallow over the lump in his throat and breathe through lungs threatening to clench shut, Jensen could only nod. Finally, when he could breathe again, he exhaled slowly, wiping away a few stray tears. “I know. Mom told me.”

“Your mother told you?”

Jensen scrubbed at his face again, trying to erase the tears and fear. Uncle Jared had already told him what he thought of weak people and Jensen kept crying. It felt like he'd done little else since the cops had shown up at his door to tell him about Mom. He licked his lips slowly, trying to find both voice and words. “She told me what happened when she got kicked out. How she got pregnant and hurt and everything.”

Jared shook his head. “She got kicked out because she got pregnant. Not the other way around.”

Jensen took a moment to absorb that, trying to fit the new pieces into the few vague details he already knew, Memories of drunk mumblings of a cruel, violent man changing her life forever. Jared must have seen his confusion. Jensen immediately wished he didn't.

“Some trucker offered her a hundred bucks to spread her legs and nine months later you were born. She was fifteen and too stupid to be paying attention to her periods and once she figured it out it was too late for an abortion. Like I said earlier. Stupid.”

The hurt those words inflicted stabbed into him so desperately hard. Truth be told he had never been too clear about the timing. Mom never bothered to really explain and he’d never really asked. He'd just always assumed because of what happened after, when she’d been hitchhiking. It just made sense, explained her anger and near hatred of him sometimes. But he couldn't wrap his head around it, couldn't decide if it was better being a trick’s son than a child of rape. Taking a deep breath he asked a question he never dared ask his mother. “Why'd she keep me?”

“You never figured that one out?”

He shook his head.

“Welfare pays more to single mothers.”

Jensen closed his eyes as the pain coursed through him. He'd known the answer; he'd always known the answer. His mother had been on welfare for many years until they'd started asking too many questions about her extra income and how she was able to afford expensive furniture and designer clothes, and began getting too inquisitive about how many days of school Jensen missed and how many times a week he was eating mac and cheese. They'd heard a few too many comments from landlords about her endless stream of male visitors. It didn't matter to her though; she'd already saved enough for a down payment for a small house, and had a decent and regular clientele that she didn't need it anymore. Of course by then it was also too late to give him up and her family hadn't wanted him. So she'd been stuck with him. And he'd been stuck with a mother who loved the checks a whole lot more than she had ever loved her son. She'd never wanted him. Not when he was conceived or when he was born. She'd had no use for him until he was old enough to start taking care of not only himself but her as well.

Jensen opened his eyes, his gaze staring sightlessly down into his own lap, tears falling silently and freely, body shivering in a pain so deep it cut through to his very soul. A week ago life had hurt, life had always hurt but he'd had his illusions. He'd settled into his selected acceptances of life. He'd had a home and a mother, a girlfriend and a best friend. He hadn't needed stupid things like security and self-respect. He could live without truth and honesty. He'd been more than happy to live in his little bubble of denial. But now that bubble was gone, the truth cut free and spread out, every ugliness, every cruelty, every failing and failure displayed and force fed to him until he choked on it. Never in his life had Jensen known such agony, no beating he'd ever taken could ever come as close. And he'd never been more afraid. If his own mother couldn't want and love him then no one ever could. Every fear he'd had since the news of her death, the realization that his pathetic little life was about to change for the worst was coming true. 

“Please take me?” he whimpered softly. No sound came, no acceptance or rejection leaving Jensen no choice but to look up. Uncle Jared was still in the same position, no change at all, as if seeing someone's entire world collapsing around them meant nothing to him, as if watching a movie that mattered only slightly more than the commercial that would interrupt it. His face impassive, his body relaxed and that calmness was more frightening that Jensen could handle. It only drove his desperation higher. He rubbed frantically at his face, trying to erase evidence of his tears and weakness. “Please.” he begged quietly. “I can cook and... and I'll clean. I always did it here. I always took care of her. I could take care of you. I won't be any trouble. I won't get in the way. I'll never ask for anything. I swear.”

Jared's hand slipped off the back of the couch and his palm cupped Jensen's cheek, thumb wiping at the tears, dark hazel eyes locking Jensen into place, holding him under a power too strong to let the boy move. Jensen wanted to find comfort in the touch but the callousness in Jared's eyes denied him that luxury. He couldn't hold back another second. “Please.”

Jared's fingers threaded through Jensen's hair, wrapping around the back of his head. “What would happen to you?”

The boy's entire being shook, fear and dread at the words, words of a destined future if he could not somehow convince his uncle to grant him mercy. He sobbed out, knowing Uncle Jared would settle for nothing less than Jensen facing to truth, verbalizing it, but he couldn't get the words out.

Jared's patience ran out and he gripped the hair tightly, yanking the smaller body over and the next thing Jensen knew he was crashing to his knees on the floor between Jared’s spread thighs. Before he could even cry out Jared jerked his head back, stretching out his throat and glaring down into the terrified green eyes. He hissed soft words that screamed straight into Jensen's soul.

“They will beat you, Jensen, and rape you until he can't take it anymore and then you will run. Run, just like your whore mother did. And then you'll have no choice but to bend over for twenty bucks a pop, nothing but a couple of holes for whoever bothers to stop, until some asshole gives you Aids or some pimp beats you to death. Maybe, if you are lucky, you'll OD on some bad shit in some piss stained back alley where no one will find you until you start stinking up the place like every other piece of garbage out there. And when the inevitable happens, when you are dead and rotting, no one, not a single person on this planet will notice you are missing. And no one will care.”

Jensen sobbed hard, words visualizing in his mind, tears streaming down his face. “Please. Please no. I'll be good. Please. I swear. I'll be good. I promise. Please.”

“You begging me?”

Jensen nodded, ignoring the pain it caused as his hair pulled in Jared's grasp. He knew how it sounded, how he must look. Knew how pathetic he was to be doing it on his knees but he was desperate. Jared's free hand flew fast, palm slapping hard and hot against Jensen's face sending an explosion of pain and stars through his head.

“Words, bitch!”

“Yes.” Jensen gasped out; pain adding even more tears to his already stained face. “I'm sorry. Please. Please, Uncle Jared. Yes, I'm begging. Please, sir.”

Jared's hand moved back to the stinging red cheek. Jensen flinched hard but didn't move away from the expected blow. If he'd earned it he'd take it. A slap was so much better than being thrown away. Instead of another slap Jared cupped the cheek, covering over the red mark he'd just inflicted, thumb caressing softly, wiping at the tears. Jensen released a sob of pure gratitude and curled into the touch, crying hard, chest heaving as he struggled to catch a decent breath. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled more to the palm than the man. “I'm sorry.”

“If I were to take you, Jensen, you would have to do much better than this.”

Jensen's hand wrapped around Uncle Jared's at his cheek, holding it there, draining off the strength and comfort it so generously offered. He nodded into it. “I will, sir. I swear it.”

“There would be rules. Strict rules. You'd have a lot of very bad behaviour you'd have to overcome. And very harsh consequences when you fail.”

Nodding quickly despite the trepidation the warning inflicted. He whispered. “Yes, sir.”

“You would obey me completely. You would never argue with me. My word is law, my will is rule.”

“I understand.”

Jared released his grip of Jensen's hair and slid the hand to cup the other side of the boy's face, wiping at the tears on the other side. “And in exchange I will give you a home, protection. You would be mine, Jensen. Is that what you want? Do you want to be mine?”

Jensen nodded in the comforting confines of the large hands, feeling them shift against his skin. Eyes closing as he drank in the comfort. “Yes, sir. Please. I want that. I want it so much.”

Jared sighed deeply, and Jensen peered up, terrified to find the anger he'd seen a moment ago or worse, that cold uncaring gaze, and held his breath as he waited for his uncle to make his decision. The longer he waited the worse the trembling became until finally Jared sighed again. “You are a very beautiful boy. The streets would eat you alive.”

Jensen's gaze ducked down. He'd heard the words before. Many of his mother's callers, her tricks he reminded himself, had told him the same thing just before their hands reached for places they had no right to be and they'd tried to take what he would never give them. But maybe that was really all he had to offer. Maybe it was what Uncle Jared wanted. He didn't know if he could do it. Just the thought of it terrified him but nowhere near as much as being thrown away, not even close to his terror of the violence, shame and agony Jared's prediction had inflicted on him moments earlier. And Jared wasn't throwing him away. In fact, Jensen believed that deep down Uncle Jared wanted to help, wanted to do right by him. So if that's what he wanted, if that was the price Jensen had to pay to say thank you then surely it was not too high of a price. It couldn't be that bad, people all over the world did it every day. Small price to pay, really, when considering the violence it would protect him from.

Swallowing back his fear and sudden self-loathing Jensen dipped his head down and rubbed his cheek against Jared's thigh. Jared's hands fell away from Jensen and dropped to the couch beside his knees. Jensen hesitated, unsure if that was a good thing or bad, closing his eyes tight, waiting to be pushed away, yelled at, something, but Jared didn't move. Jensen shifted slightly, dropping his head a bit more to rub further inside, his cheek caressing slow circles, waiting, hoping, silently begging for some kind of sign from Uncle Jared. As his head turned in a bit Jensen pressed a gentle kiss to a cloth covered spot just above the inside of his knee. He hovered a moment then kissed again, a little harder.

“You really are a whore just like your mother.”

Gasping sharply Jensen jerked back, quaking, shame burning so hard and deep through him. He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up so bad and now Uncle Jared would throw him away. It wasn't what he wanted and now Jared would be disgusted and hate him and throw him away like the garbage he was. Jensen's hands jumped to his face, covering his crying eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” he whimpered over and over.

“Hands down.”

Jensen's hands dropped to his trembling thigh, clenching tightly to hold them there and not disobey. With his head bowed down low, eyes squeezed tight he tried hiding behind his hair. At least until Jared carded his hand through it, clenching a tight handful at the top of his scalp and jolting his head back leaving no choice but to face his uncle. His breath stopped. His heart stopped. His very blood stopped pumping as he waited for the fateful words he knew were coming.

“Seems you'll need a lot more training and control than I originally thought.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything.”

“You didn't mean anything?”

“I... I thought. I mean...” Jensen had no idea what to say, how to explain. His face crumpled. “Please. I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad. I'll never do it again.”

“It's your nature, Jensen. You can't help it. You are a whore's son. And you are a whore.”

“No. I've never...”

The grip at his scalp tightened, yanking at the delicate strands, cutting off words and leaving Jensen gasping from the pain. “Please.” he whimpered.

“Whether you have actually done anything before or not, which I am still uncertain I believe, it was your first instinct. What more proof do you need that you are a dirty little whore?”

The words dropped into him like lead. It wasn't like that. He'd meant it as an offering. He'd thought it was what Jared wanted. It wasn't what Jensen wanted. But it had been his first instinct, his first thought. It had been the only thing he could think of to show gratitude. He shook his head, only slightly but still movement, little side to side motions, eyes locked to his uncle, silently begging him to tell him it wasn't true. He gasped out the agony of the confusion. “Please don't say that.”

“I won't lie to you anymore than I would allow you to lie to me.”

Jensen sobbed out. “I don't want to be a whore.”

“You already are. You always have been. Blame your whore mother if it makes you feel better but it won't change the fact that it's true.”

“Please. I'm sorry. I won't do it ever again. I won't do anything. I promise.”

“Jensen. You can't help it. It's who you are.” Releasing the hair he rubbed his fingers over the boy's cheek, tracing tear tracks, then shifting over to glide easily down the soft curve of the jaw until he palmed Jensen's chin, holding the boy in place as he watched him crumble and break before him.

“Maybe though...” he began softly, staring deeply into the deep green eyes. “Maybe it would be better for you to be my whore than to be a whore to some pimp on the street.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, not sure if I am going to take this any further, I love leaving it open so we can all fantasize about what happens after. Hope you enjoyed even if there was no hot man on man J2 sex.


End file.
